


Bleeding

by Laramie



Series: Things you said [4]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4687124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas has a day off and has a liaison; Jimmy has a half-day and is left waiting for him. When Thomas returns, Jimmy gets a shock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding

**September 1923**

"Where've _you_ been?" Jimmy demanded unpleasantly, the moment Thomas sauntered into the yard, whistling. Thomas's jacket hung over his shoulder from one crooked finger.

"It's my day off," Thomas replied, coming to a halt in front of Jimmy. He looked taken aback, which made Jimmy realise that he had just pounced on his best friend for no apparent reason. Thomas could not help not knowing the conflicting emotions that had begun simmering in Jimmy's chest. The thought did not stop Jimmy from feeling cheated.

"I _know_ that," Jimmy said. "Because it's my half day. I thought we could spend it together."

"Sorry," Thomas said, sounding genuine. The regret in his eyes made Jimmy feel guilty; Thomas hated to hurt Jimmy in any way, and here Jimmy was lashing out at him when it was not really his fault. "I didn't know. You didn't say anything."

Dropping his eyes to his half-smoked cigarette, Jimmy muttered: "No, but I thought it _very loudly_."

Thomas chuckled and held out one hand. For a split second, Jimmy had a wild urge to hold it, before Thomas asked: "Got a spare cigarette?"

"Yeah…" Jimmy fumbled in his pocket for his fag packet and extracted one, holding his own cigarette between his lips. "You didn't get any while you were out?" Jimmy said around his cigarette as Thomas took the other from his fingers. He wanted to know where Thomas had been, whether he had been with _Isaac_ again. Jimmy had met Isaac a couple of times; he did not like the man.

"I've got some in my room," Thomas answered. "But that's all the way upstairs." He half-smirked, his eyes twinkling as they met Jimmy's.

Jimmy had to look away, unable to cope with Thomas's gaze when it contained all the affection that Jimmy was too cowardly to acknowledge. He finished his cigarette and stayed put, wishing that Thomas would tell him where he had been.

"What did you do today, then?" Thomas asked.

Jimmy envied his ease. Some days Jimmy could hardly speak for fear that something damning would creep out. "Hung around here for a bit," he said, leaving the 'waiting for you' unspoken. "Went for a walk. Bought meself a pick 'n' mix in the village - got you some of those sherbets."

Thomas smiled again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jimmy replied, watching himself scuffing his soles on the ground. He had been standing in the shop and, despite his disappointment with Thomas for not being there on his half day, been desperate to see the look on his face when Jimmy presented him with the sweets. It seemed silly, now. Worse than that, it seemed _obvious_ ; obvious that Jimmy was being tempted by the devil, and losing the fight. _I shouldn't like him_ , Jimmy reminded himself, now. _I shouldn't. I won't. I don't._

Thomas switched the coat and the cigarette over in his hands, and as Jimmy caught sight of his left inner forearm for the first time, he could not control a gasp.

"You're bleeding!" he blurted out, grabbing Thomas's wrist in both hands and staring at the red-brown stain on his shirt sleeve. "Why the hell are you bleeding?!"

"It's nothing," Thomas said calmly. "Didn't realise it was bleeding. I'll put some salt on the stain in a minute; it'll come right out."

Unconsciously, Jimmy's fingers tightened around Thomas's wrist. "Let me look," he said. His voice was hard in his own ears.

Thomas looked for a moment as though he would protest, but then he tugged his arm free of Jimmy's hold and pulled the end of his jacket down to hang over his shoulder by itself so that he could unbutton his cuff, fold his sleeve up and present his bare forearm to Jimmy.

Cradling the back of Thomas's hand, Jimmy examined the wound closely, feeling sick to the stomach with fear. The cut was aligned parallel with his arm, an inch long, not very deep but covered in half-dried blood. "What did you _do_?" Jimmy asked, only able to summon a whisper.

"I just scratched it on a nail." Thomas's fingers flexed before he dragged his arm away again to pull his sleeve back down. "It's fine."

Jimmy watched Thomas's pale skin disappearing under the fabric. The sleeve was still intact, with no sign of damage where Thomas's wound was (beyond the bloodstains). "How did you hurt your arm and not damage your shirt? Unless -" Unless he either had his sleeves rolled up, or… wasn't wearing it.

Thomas ambled round to lean back on the wall next to Jimmy.

"Were you with Isaac today, then?" Jimmy asked, as casually as he could.

A beat of silence, as Thomas's face went a little pink. "Yes."

"Right…" Jimmy lit another cigarette, noting absently that his hands were unsteady. "So what were you doing to get yourself scratched on a nail?"

Thomas gave him a sidelong glance. "You don't want to hear."

"I do." He did not know if he could bear to hear it, but he wanted to know. "I have to make sure he's being good to you, don't I?" He did want to look out for Thomas, but that was not the reason he wanted to know.

Thomas stilled with his cigarette half-raised, his lips parted to accept it. After a moment, the cigarette resumed its course, with Thomas bowing his head shyly. "Well… there's… this shed, in the wood…" he said hesitantly.

The nausea threatened to overwhelm Jimmy. To think of Thomas and _Isaac_ being together in abstract was disturbing enough; it was far worse, he was now discovering, to know that they had spent the day together, and been in a state of undress in a shed in the woods. _I'd do better for you,_ Jimmy tried to tell him telepathically. Then he thought: _No I won't, because it's never going to happen. I'm not like that._

"You should get Doctor Clarkson to look at it," Jimmy said abruptly. "You might get tetanus from it. And if you die I'll never forgive you."

"Noted," Thomas responded neatly.

Jimmy turned and left him to go inside without warning, once again caught between two conflicting thoughts: _Don't you ever come near me again_ ; and: _I don't know what I'd do without you._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by abbys-jam-juggler from a prompt post: "Why the hell are you bleeding?!"


End file.
